God Daughter
by BrokeMachine
Summary: After some Death Eaters' death, Snape is stuck with the burden of taking care of some business they left behind. This is getting a particular trio quiet curious. Why did he ever agree to this in the first place?
1. Lost Kitten

God Daughter

Chapter 1: Lost Kitten

"This is a problem." A dark haired man said, pacing up and down.

"You can deal with Voldemort, I'm sure you'd be able to deal with this." Dumbledore said staring at the man before him with slight amusement. "Now, take a seat and we can talk about the arrangements."

"Dumbledore, you don't un…" Snape stopped pacing and turned to look at Dumbledore, finding him still grinning at him humorously. "Sir, this isn't a joke." He said mildly annoyed.

"No, of course not, this is a serious matter." Dumbledore said sitting up straighter on his chair and gesturing a hand for Snape to sit down on the chair across his desk.

Almost in defeat, Snape took the offer and plopped down on the chair.

"Now, tell me when does it begin? He asked still in a good mood.

Snape blinked at him for a while as all the sudden changes that is about to take place raced through his head and coughed as he got his mind back together. "Tomorrow, but I can't accept it. Surely, not now."

"Very well, then take as many absentee days as you will. I'm sure you'll need sometime to get use to this new task." Dumbledore said obviously ignoring Snape's protest.

Snape tried to quickly bring another point on why he couldn't do this absurd request; stuttering and only managing to release a fraction of his theories at a time all out of order an in no way making sense. After a while of struggling, he just got up on his feet and headed towards the door without saying a word, knowing that he just couldn't argue with the man. As he slowly walked, all he could think was what he just revealed to Dumbledore and their conversation afterwards; and all he managed to say before disappearing from sight was a quiet, "I'm late for class."

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All the students were already seated and attended for as soon as Snape arrived to the class room. Everyone's eyes were on him as he marched to the chalkboard, cast a spell on it to make the chalk start writing, turned around to look at the students and said. "This is your assignment. Begin." He demanded.

As if on 'Q' they all at the same time looked from Snape to the board and a roar of groans of disapproval came from them as the list continued to lengthen.

Somewhat satisfied, a small smile appeared on his lips on hearing the students in such despair, yet it did not lift his spirits.

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"What was up with Professor Snape, today? Harry said looking at his list of homework assigned all and only by Snape. The entire hall was noisy with students going about their daily break as they eat lunch.

"Dunno." Ron said as he stuffed his face as if he was starved for days, all the while Hermione starred in horror. "Maybe he woke up in the wrong side of the bat cage." Ron continued. He looked up at Hermione who looked like she was about to puke. "What?" He finally said to her.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the scene before him.

Giving Ron a small look of disapproval, Hermione got her mind back together and began with her usual lecture tone of voice. "Well, if you two would read the _Daily Prophet_ every once in a while, you would know that a week ago, a couple of death eaters were killed in a small battle with some other witches and wizards fighting for the Order." She crossed her arms, waiting for a reaction from Harry and Ron, but all she got from them was blank stares. So, she continued.

"Well, maybe he's angry because he lost some of his friends."

"Or that he lost the battle." Ron added.

Nobody said anything as all three turned around to take a peek at the head table; in particular, Snape.

As soon as they saw Snape looking at them with a grim face, they quickly turned back to face one another.

"It's like he knows we're talking about him." Ron said in whispery voice.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement, and then continued eating and chatting with other classmates. Mostly dissing, complaining, and thinking of ways to cheat on Snape's assignment.

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The next morning was almost as Snape expected; with visiting the court, paperwork, waiting, but nothing could prepare him for what he was witnessing now.

The little body sat before him, her head down, her legs didn't even reach the floor. She wore a dark sweater that looked itchy and uncomfortable, with a gray skirt and black leg warmers. She had dark wavy hair, that looked uncombed and dry. The little girl looked up at him, her eyes lids looked irritated from crying and there were black halos circled around the dark windows of her soul. Those eyes were pitch black, and Snape could almost feel like he could just fall into their dark depths. Her lips were dry and she looked malnourished and pasty.

They looked at each other for a while; observing one another. Then without warning, the little girl jumped to her feet and held on to him with her tiny arms around his waist, her head placed on his belly. Snape didn't know what to do, and worse he didn't know how he was going to live with this girl now in his life. Seconds passed on to minutes, and still the girl held on.

Snape tried to pull her off, but the girl had a tight grip on his garments. Without much success he stopped trying to force her away. He looked around and no one seemed to notice the miniature human wrapped tightly around his waist. He rubbed at his temples thinking hard on what he should do, he couldn't walk like this and he simply couldn't ask a random stranger to take her like she was a lost kitten. He once again looked up, and noticed a woman walking, holding hands with a child. He observed them for a while, and without thinking he reached for a hand still clenching his garments, and with no resistance this time, she just accepted the other into her tiny own.

"Let's get something to eat." Snape said, finally breaking their silence.


	2. No Means No Except When It Means Yes

Chapter 2: No Means No… Except When It Means Yes

The little girl's eyes glittered in happiness when the waitress came by with the pancakes Snape had ordered for her. She liked her lips hungrily as they were presented atop the table, in front of her, topped with whip cream and a couple of cherries.

As if asking for permission, she looked up at Snape; eye's pleading. "May I, Sir."

He looked at her for a while, like she had spoken to him in a different language and coughed once before answering. "Yes." He said sternly and crossed his arms, not offended by the girl's manner of asking, or stunned, or in any way angered but in wonder. He took a sip of his coffee and watched as the little girl picked up the fork with her dirty hands and cut into the pancakes. Savagely, ripping them apart with no obvious plan of attack; her clumsy movements making a mess on her plate more then anything else. Snape was close to offering some assistance, but as soon as he noticed her finally tare a rather large piece and shoved it into her tiny mouth, he retreated. She tried to chew it, having a hard time as it overtook most of the space in her small cavity, and with not much care just swallowed it. Immediately, she stretched out her arms for the glass of water sitting next to her plate, and with sticky fingers, picked it up and began to drink until the glass was half emptied.

As she finished the rest, Snape continued to stare at her persona. He imagined disaster after disaster occurring in his life with her in the picture. No more solo, calm, afternoons grading papers or reading, but babysitting – permanently, all day every day. And suddenly, he was filled with the overwhelming feeling of dread. He placed his fingers on his temple, and rubbed at the small head ache, closing his eyes shut; thinking of a way to get rid of her. Some friends – no, none of his 'very' closed enemies are trusted with a little girl. Dumbledore – no, he's probably still smiling with amusement that it is he, Severus Snape, which was trusted with her to begin with. Minerva, she likes children. Right? – she's probably as fed up with them as he is. The Malfoy family – just simply, no.

He finally let his hands fall back on the table and his features relax, as he felt a pair of eyes staring at him; and he was right. The little girl had her hands over her belly as she leaned back on her seat, staring straight at him, studying him profoundly with her dark eyes. Her eyes were so dark, darker then a child eyes should be.

"Godfather." Her small voice squeaked at him.

Her word sinking into his thoughts; the meaning of it, her meaning of it. Has she understood what had happened to her or did she still hold that blissful shield every child was born with. If he left her now, would she understand what he did to her?

"Godfather." She said again. "Will I be living with you at Hogwarts?" Her sight never broke from his. He was glued there, in thought, nervous. He gulped once and stood up of his chair, dropped a few coins on the table, trying to avoid the question altogether with this action. He could not feed her false hope, not him, not to a child.

He turned to head for the exit, expecting the girl to follow with no question, but instead a small hand gripped his own, stopping him from walking any further with her delicate touch. Then her small squeaky voice spoke; broken, hurt. "Please, Godfather. I won't cause you any trouble. Please."

Snape closed his eyes tightly as he heard her small cries, causing his chest to sink with pounds of guilt. Her request was out of the question, he could simply not accept. Not now; not when his life is at all times in danger. Having her around would only put hers in danger as well. For bloody sake, he is a double agent, no triple, no quadruple, no – who's counting anyways. He is just not prepared for the duty of a responsible guardian, when he's a ruthless Deatheater; always standing in the edge of sanity and insanity, of life and death. He has to tell her, or she would never understand.

He slowly turned to face the girl, his heart sunk when he saw her tears running down her pale, dirty cheeks; but his features remained bored, stern, and unreadable. "Please, Godfather." She whispered.

Without thinking, startled by such a public show of emotions coming from such a tiny being, he said abruptly. "Fine." Instead of the well planned out _no,_ if only to cease such display.

The little girl quickly embraced him in a tight hug, surprising him once again with another dose of public embarrassment.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Godfather. I promise you won't regret it." She said rubbing her cheek on his stomach, obviously not noticing how loud her voice had gotten.

Snape turned to look around the room, seeing all eyes were on them. Could they not have gotten through this discussion in a more discrete way, he wondered. He immediately took a hold of her arm, abruptly leaving before hexing everyone for not minding their own business.


	3. Fruits of Evil

Chapter 3: Fruits of Evil

Snape had spent the whole afternoon at Hogsmeade showing the girl around; she wanted to visit every store possible and since Professor Dumbledore did permit him a couple of days of leave he had no reason to object the girls desire to stay a little longer if only to run his errands.

Once through with his shopping he searched through the many isle of the small shop looking for the girl, finally he spotted her at the far end deep in the back of the shop. As he neared he noticed her unfathomed by his approach, almost hypnotized by something incased in a dusty, glass box. He could only see her rigid back blocking the view from what so graciously stole her knowledge of the world around her. He stepped a little to the side and incased in what seemed like such a remote section of the gloomy shop he could see appearing in view a porcelain face, raven hair cascading down past her cheeks and over an elegant silk emerald dress styled to fit the girls of the 19th century; her silhouette that of a young lady, but her facial features that of a blooming girl.

He could see as she slowly lifted her hand and gently placed her finger right in front of the porcelain face just at her reach against the glass box. The dolls features seemed to glow brightly under the little light sipping through a tarnished window. The light's rays hitting the disturbed dust making a superficial aura around the girl as well. The porcelain's grey fixed eyes stared ahead at nothing, almost like she was caught in time during her young blossoming days in such a state of beautiful loneliness.

A bell suddenly rung overhead telling them that someone else had entered the shop, startling them both back to reality. Abruptly, the young child that had trapped in Snape's interest turned and quickly caught sight of Snape.

"We're leaving now." He sternly said, with a nod the girl walked towards him obediently. Once seeing that the girl had begun to follow, he turn to make his way out the shop himself, but halted upon seeing no one other then Harry, Hermione, and Ron staring back at him and the girl who now stood next to him, holding on tightly to his robes.

"Professor." Harry said bitterly but his eyes traveled curiously from Snape to the girl barely peeking out from behind Snape.

All three pair of eyes landed immediately on the dangerously pale chubby cheeks, all three heads tilting to one side as they recognized them to belong to a child. Snape's eyes followed, though he remained as still and rigid as a rock. It was impossible for him to see the little girl standing behind him but he imagined that that was the funky looking tumor on his side that had all three brat's eyebrows up in curiosity.

"Who's this?" Hermione asked perkily, finally breaking the silence but it didn't work to ease Snape's embarrassment, nor the young girl's shyness (whom by now totally disappeared behind the long black robes).

"Who is what?" Snape said and he curse at himself for not having anything more clever to say.

"Um. Professor, I was speaking about the little girl behind you. Hi, I'm Hermione." Hermione said leaning slightly over and waving at the dark eyes that were once again focused on the trio.

"Never mind her. I expect your assignment to be at my desk by tomorrow morning." Snape barked. All three immediately stiffened.

"Yes, sir." They said in unison and Snape wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the tiny wrist and dragging the little girl out once again in haste.

Timidly, she glanced back to look at Harry in bewilderment.

Harry looked back, brows furrowed, mind turning.

…

"Godfather," she began but Snape kept moving forward, towards the castle. His feet marched swiftly, his pace marginally held back by the recurrent reminder that a shorter pair of legs trailed behind him. He didn't respond back, that title gave him an unsettling, resentful distaste but despite his silence she came forward with her question. "Was that Harry Potter?" she asked in such a low voice Snape was even surprised that he could hear her to begin with.

He stopped and sighed. The question of the century – was it ever going to be laid to rest?

He turned to look at her, her head was bowed, her hands clasped behind her. "Yes," he said as stern as his worn state of mind could express. This just wasn't the job for him. It was a few hours past midday and already it seemed like the second longest day he ever lived. He continued towards the castle.

"I recognize him from photos," her voice had picked up some confidence. "From the newspaper. He's smaller in person. Godfather, what is it our Lord is so worried about? He's nothing. You could kill him with a single hex, right? Godfather, he doesn't seem like much. He should be dead already."

Snape stopped again this time not bothering to face her. He wasn't sure he was ready to face those dark orbs. How long had they been holding those feelings?

"Who should be dead?" Snape asked his back still turned to her and he was surprised by the calm in him, the practiced feign serenity and unattached emotion cloaking the heavy beating of his heart from a child.

"Harry Potter, Godfather, he should have died alongside his parents." Her voice had no stager only hatred, resentment and loath - this girl, the product of Death Eaters. Taught and raised to breathe the foul aroma of dark magic, to serve under a dictator and immortal ruler, speak his words as if through his lips, conditioned to become one of his kind. A soul so ripe should not know the embodiment of evil and yet she spoke it as if evil was her prayer. Her, the beginning of a generation with eyes as forsaken as hers, the perfect soldiers to an army of soulless creatures – the dark Lord's fashion made to become overruling and dominate to any other.- from his orders Death Eaters are breeding this new generation of malice.

Snape could only take pity to her words. This girl… what could he say to her? Was there any room left to utter refined reason after that lungful? Was he the one to do it?

"Godfather," she began again and Snape was afraid… _afraid_… of the words to follow. "If given the chance, would you kill him for our Lord?"

No sin so great should be asked from a child and yet she did. It wasn't as if that question had not been asked before among fellow Death Eaters, it wasn't as if it had never been asked to him. For their Dark Lord, would he…? _No_, he would never do it. Would a young child like her? The answer was supposed to be held without question, but hers held many.

"Your chance was there, Godfather…"

Snape suddenly turned on his heel upset by the refrain of her words, the Death Eaters still alive in her through her parents, the selfishly blind damage caused to her. The girl backed away, her steps small, her head bowed, hindering any eruption of emotion from Snape. It was an impossible situation; the job just wasn't for him. What was expected from him as a guardian at this time and age was unreasonable. To raise one as corrupt as this… no prophesy could predict the catastrophe it would create. To put two negatives together, deep in sin, to close to the other side…

"Forgive me, Godfather. Does speaking of him anger you?" She asked and through her unmasked calm was the innocent that looked at the incased porcelain doll passionately as if within the birthing of her unavoidable destiny there was a child pure in state.

There was no speech that Snape could communicate to her. Unbound by their familiarity of one another, speaking from his person was something unnatural to him. So he settled it with a stern as ever _no_ and kept moving forward.

TBC…


End file.
